Fresh Flowers
by Just.Know.That.I.Love.You
Summary: He has lost his voice, lost his friend, and may be losing his mind. Suddenly, a spot on the road brings him back to a dark night and a car with a cross. What is he reminded of? What does he see? How does he cope? Slight Bethyl, more friendship than anything else.


_**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead TV show or any of the comics. The characters and situations presented in this story are of my own imagination. **_

The escape from Terminus was difficult. Very difficult. So difficult, in fact, that not all of the group from the prison made it out. The losses run through his head. Bob. Rosita. Rick.

The last death haunts him the most. The man who called him brother, the man with two kids, the man who led their group for so long, is no longer alive to do it. He didn't have to die. It's Daryl's fault he did.

After Terminus, the group as a whole was at a loss. Those from the prison were destroyed by the death of their leader and doctor figure. The group heading for Washington mourned the death of Rosita. Everyone lost someone at the end of the tracks.

Abraham and Glenn decided that the group's next move should be to head for Washington D.C. No one argued with them. They walked the next two days in relative silence before finding a car. An occupied car.

Carol and Tyrese were both shocked and relieved to find the rest of the group waiting outside the car. They had huddled down, assuming the ragtag group on the horizon was the beginning of a herd. With a baby on Carol's back and no ammunition, huddling down seemed a wiser decision than trying to fight, no matter how much it hurt their pride.

The reunion was joyful, and brief. After all the necessary hugs and explanations, Abraham grew impatient. He pushed them all back onto the road, quickly towards Washington. He didn't want any time wasted. While they were lollygagging, he said, more and more people were dying that Eugene could save.

In the chaos, no one noticed the baby on Carol's back. It wasn't until she began to cry that someone took notice. That baby was a symbol of hope, even if she was a danger.

Finding his sister alive saved Carl. He was destroyed by his father's death, destroyed by the knowledge that he was the last one alive in his whole family. He no longer had to believe that. He didn't put his sister down for the rest of the day.

The group was reunited, but something was off. Someone was missing. Most of the group had no clue what was wrong. They assumed everyone was dead or reunited. None of the group believed the young blonde had made it out of the prison. Daryl knew. And Rick had known. But Rick was dead. And Daryl wasn't talking.

It was a sudden change, the loss of his voice. He had always been a man of few words, even when he was young boy. But after everything that had happened, after losing the prison and Beth and so many of their group, he didn't see the need for words.

They walked on for a whole week before Daryl found his voice again.

"Stop."

It was a whisper, and the group didn't seem to hear him. So he repeated the word, this time a little louder.

"STOP!" His voice was rough from lack of use, but the group finally listened. They stopped a few feet from the fork in the road.

Daryl had been traveling at the back of the pack, and when the group looked back they found him sitting in the middle of the road staring intently at the ground. They were confused, and rightly so. Many of the group already believed Daryl was losing his mind.

The next few moments assured them in their minds that they were right. As they watched, Daryl shot quickly to his feet and began to run. He headed the opposite way that the group had planned to go, and almost instantly Abraham sprang to action.

"Whoa there, slow down. Where in the hell are you going?" Daryl shrugged out of Abraham's embrace and began running again. This time, he was too fast for Abraham to catch. The stunned group watched as the man desperately ran down the gravel road.

After a few moments, Glenn shouldered his pack and began to follow. When no one else moved, he turned to them. "Aren't you guys coming?" The words moved the original prison group into action. They headed down the road, and eventually Abraham and Eugene started walking. They had to stick together, even if a seemingly crazy man was heading in the completely wrong direction.

Daryl had a good head start on the group, and pretty soon they could no longer see him. But as they followed the road, they could see what he did. He left a pretty solid trail of bodies behind him. Almost like Hansel and the bread crumbs.

Eventually, after hours of walking, they caught up to Daryl. He was standing at the edge of a graveyard, staring at a grave. The grave said beloved father, and there were fresh flowers on it. He was in stunned silence.

When the group caught up to him, he spoke again. "They're fresh." Maggie looked at the words on the grave and began to tear up. Her father's death was still fresh in her mind. The rest of the group looked at Daryl like he had three heads. Abruptly he began walking across the cemetery to a house, shooting the occasional walker on his way.

Naturally, the group followed him. They had to see what the hell was going on with him. It was almost like he barely knew they were there.

When he arrived at the house, he did the standard knock on the door and waited. No walkers came, and that's when he knew for sure. When he left this house, it was surrounded by walkers. Someone had cleared it. Someone who knew the importance of the place, who knew the food it held.

"Beth!" The name choked out of his mouth. He said it again, louder. "Beth!" He couldn't wait anymore. He had to know.

He pulled the door open and took big strides across the hall and into the kitchen. The open jar of jelly on the table made him smile, but he didn't waste time taking a bite. He strode across the kitchen in two steps, remembering the last time he was in there. The things he almost said. The things he wanted to do.

He was almost running by the time he opened the door. And there, he found her. Sleeping in a coffin. Out like a light.

"Beth Greene!" The name rang off of his lips loud and clear. The girl shot up quickly, reaching for a crossbow that lay beside her. He barely had time to register where she had got it before she was climbing out of the coffin.

The crossbow was pointed steadily at his heart. He raised an eyebrow and glanced at the determined girl. He was almost positive she wouldn't pull the trigger. Slowly, he watched shock register across her face and the bow lower.

"Took you long enough. I've been waiting here for you to come back for almost three days." Her words were laced with sarcasm, the Beth Greene he had come to know in their flight from the prison.

Maggie came running towards her sister. "Beth!" Beth looked up, startled, as if she had awoken from a dream that only contained two people – the redneck and herself. Still, she allowed herself to be hugged, allowed her sister to wrap her arms around her and start crying. The rest of the group observed, silent in their own grief. They were getting someone back that they considered to be gone. But that didn't change the fact that there were some gone forever. The blonde little girl who loved her doll. The sheriff with the boots and pistol that never left his person. T-Dog, Lori, Dale…and Hershel. So many others who would never come back, could never come back. But this time, by some chance, one of theirs returned.

Maggie was sobbing, and the rest of the group were wiping away tears. But Beth's eyes were dry. She was searching the faces of those near to her, the faces of the people she believed had been lost. The faces of people he had told her were gone, that she would never see again. She had never believed him, not even a little bit. So she should have been happy. Instead, she felt numb.

Finally her sister let Beth go, and immediately she was rushed by Carol, Glenn, Carl, Tyrese, and the others. Abraham, Eugene, and Daryl hung awkwardly near the back – two of them out of respect for a girl they never knew, the third in shock at the fact that she was alive. He shouldn't have been. She proved she knew a little about the ways of the world, that she could fight when it came down to it. Despite knowing that, he had not allowed himself to hope. He had assumed she were gone forever, that he never deserved to find her even if she was alive, and that the universe knew that.

So when he stepped forward, after she hugged her family, held her almost daughter, and kissed the forehead of the boy she considered to be a brother, he didn't expect anything from her. Because of that, he was more surprised than anyone else when she rushed him, wrapped her arms around his torso, and buried her head into his vest. He could hear faint mumbling, and he gently tilted the girl's head up with a rough palm so he could hear her. "Told you I could take care of myself, Daryl Dixon. Bet you missed me so bad when I was gone, though."

In that moment, he knew they would be okay. Explanations would come later, he could see she was curious about Rick and knew he would have to be the one to tell her. And he also knew she would tell him about what happened in the three weeks they were separated. That would take time. But right now, in this moment, they were good.

_**So I wrote most of this in May, a few months after the season 4 finale. I was speculating on what would happen, and trying to tide myself over. After seeing the Season 5 trailer (for those of you who haven't seen it already, you really need to watch it) I knew that the chances of something like this happening were slim to none. Still, I found the draft and decided to finish it. This is pure ramblings from a shipper, and probably not my best work. Despite that, I decided to post it before season five begins next week. 8 days!**_


End file.
